


Like a Box of Crayons

by TheaBilla



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheaBilla/pseuds/TheaBilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Kibum, better known as Key, was a ninja. A real, honest-to-goodness, shuriken-throwing, ass kicking, blood-letting, katana-wielding, bad ass son-of-a-bi- -Well, let's not call his mom a bitch (she might kill us for that)- ninja.</p><p>He's been assigned to a group of misfit super heroes and these are their tales</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Potty dance

**Author's Note:**

> This story is more a series of oneshots as opposed to a cohesive chapter-ed story. each 'chapter' is its own little tale. Some are short, some super short and some will be average in length. WIP until further notice.

**Oneshot Summary:**  Kibum doesn’t know what Young Suk had been smoking. He doesn’t particularly care, but if he or the client winds up dead or otherwise seriously injured, he'll haunt Young Suk’s hallucinations till kingdom come. A.K.A. Kibum takes his first mission with Kim Jonghyun.

 

When Young Suk had told Kibum that Jonghyun would be joining him on the security detail mission, Kibum had first argued that he didn’t need back up for such a simple mission.

“Mr Kim, we are well aware of your prowess and skill, but company policy clearly states all security detail must be a two-man team.” Young Suk took a long drink from his half empty water bottle and screwed the lid back on before continuing.  “Also, as wonderfully skilled as you are, you don’t exactly present a…” Young Suk waved his hands in the air searching for the correct word.

“Dangerous?” Kibum supplied.

“Masculine…” Young Suk coughed and looked away. “-a masculine image, and well, Jonghyun… he-“

“Is four-foot nothing.”

“Has muscles…”

“They’re called steroids, they stunt your growth among other things.”

“Yes, well…” Young Suk coughed again and Kibum sneered. “Jonghyun looks the part, you  _are_  the part, and his addition is merely for appearances sake. We both know how useless he is in a real situation.” Kibum scoffed.

 

  
  


Nothing.

NOTHING had prepared him for this.

Jonghyun apparently had the brain to go with his stunted growth. Nothing shouts “’roid monster” like muscles and no brain cells, then again perhaps Jonghyun had simply been dropped three times too many as a baby.

But that wasn’t even the least of it. No.

Jonghyun had a habit, a very terrible habit that was conveniently labelled a “super power”. Jonghyun had the ‘ability’ to take the physical form of anything that he could think of.

Often enough Kibum had run into a naked Shin Se Kyun happily humming away in the locker room showers, or rolled over in bed to find a tree had suddenly sprouted from Jonghyun’s bed in the dorm. Once he’d even witnessed Jonghyun complete the training obstacle course completely in three toed sloth form.

Of course having the ability to turn into anything one can think of would be a perfectly respectable and possibly awesome super power, if the person who had the ability had the presence of mind to control it.

Or the presence of mind to do anything really.

Anything that wasn’t…whatever that was.

Jonghyun stood fourteen feet away, ‘stood’ was a…liberal term. He was flailing. Even that didn’t quite describe the frantic waving and twitching of his limbs.

Kibum pressed the button on his head piece. “Yah, retard.”

Jonghyun looked his way again; he looked startled but started his whole twitchy spazz-y fling-y …thing all over again.

Kibum just stared as Jonghyun ran through the whole two minute routine. When the older boy finally paused, Kibum reached up for the button on his head piece once again. “Are you  _trying_ to make me mad?”

Jonghyun winced and ducked a bit to the left, but simply blinked at Kibum.

Kibum cocked his head and eyebrow.

He felt a bitch fit coming on when Jonghyun slowly began to move again, almost hesitantly. Kibum recognized the now redundant flailing pattern.

Kibum depressed the button on his ear piece again “What are you doing? Is that…” Kibum squinted, he was pretty sure Jonghyun was actually trying to tell him something with all the… the hand fling-y stuff.  “Bird…is that? Canoeing…canoeing? Jonghyun, I swear to all that you hold dear, stop the fucking rain dance and just- uhg!” Kibum gave up.

He broke formation and stomped rather moodily across the fourteen feet of pavement between him and the air traffic control trainee Jonghyun seemed to think he was.

When he reached the older male he brought the finger of his left hand to Jonghyun’s head piece, and his right hand to his own and depressed both buttons at once.

“There is a button, on your head piece.” The words echoed eerily between both their mics and ear pieces. “All you have to do is press it,” he pushed a little harder at Jonghyun’s button, causing the older boy to wobble against the pressure. “And then you can speak.  Then.” Kibum drops his hands, “I most likely won’t have reason to strip your skin from your bones.”

“Unless, you know, you do something else stupid.”

Jonghyun had stars in his eyes for the split second before he suddenly appeared stark naked with every muscle and bone exposed for the whole street to gawk at.

Kibum rolled his eyes and walked back to his post. If Jonghyun wanted to stand stark naked in nothing but his muscles and bones, Kibum wouldn't have anything to do with it.

And if Jonghyun spent the next half hour flickering between a very buxom nurse and a terribly awkward looking chicken mascot Kibum will also claim innocence.

Even if the computer read out documenting their earpiece conversation does appear a tad suspicious.


	2. He remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee Teamin remembers everything, he remembers ever moment of his life. Every unexplainable event, and every boring moment of sleeplessness at night, every lecture from his momma, and every line of every movie he’d ever left on in the background.

Being born had been…a trial, or at least that’s what he thinks he remembers. Momma had said that no one remembers being born, so maybe he didn’t really remember it. Maybe his mind had simply created a memory to deal with the blank spot there.

But then Taemin does remember the look of absolute wonder and love on his momma’s face, and the proud smile his father flashed everywhere. He remembers the large contraption of a video camera, the high pitched tone it made as it worked.

He remembers as the machine had slowly begun to dissolve into a slippery wet substance. He remembers as it ran pink and viscous down his father’s arm and as the nurse and his momma both shrieked in alarm.

He also remembers being three months old and his milk bottle never needing to be refilled. He remembers his mother worrying that he wasn’t eating, that he had trouble sucking. He remembers her bewildered expression as the bottle she’d dumped down the drain only moments before was full once again.

He remembers being six when the power rangers woke up under his Christmas tree on Christmas morning; he remembers as the bewildered actors shouted and flailed and as his mother screamed and his father searched for the baseball bat.

He remembers the bully in fifth grade beating himself to a pulp, completely bewildered and terrified. He remembers the monitors running over, and he remembers as everyone stood and watched Kim Cheoji give himself a black eye, split lip and a broken finger.

He remembers wishing, just the minute before that Cheoji could have a taste of his own medicine.

Taemin remembers other weird things, things like his bed turning into a pool of water, his bibimbap growing limbs and fish swimming in the kitchen sink under the suds of dish soap.  He remembers the characters from the TV marching along his living room floor. He remembers the wall by the kitchen table, where there had never been anything, one day sprouting a door that lead to the washrooms at his school.

Taemin remembers every moment of his life. Every unexplainable event, and every boring moment of sleeplessness at night, every lecture from his momma, and every line of every movie he’d ever left on in the background.

He remembers the moment his family learned what he was, he remembers his father’s intake of breath, the flutter of his eyelashes and the nervous movement of his momma’s hands. He remembers the way the doctor looked at him with utmost sympathy.

Controllable, great potential, secretive, government classified.

Give up your dreams Lee Taemin, you’re about to lose every ounce of control over your life.

He remembers every needle, every probe, every sensor sticker they stuck to his body, he remembers the things they’d asked him to do, and how he’d never managed to get the results they wanted, and yet,  how everything he tried to do only proved his great power, his uselessness.

Unpredictable, loose cannon, useless, uncontrollable, waste, refuse, scheduled for deletion.

He wasn’t fit for them, wasn’t fit for anything.

He hadn’t seen his momma or father in ten months, three weeks, four days, sixteen hours, three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.  Twenty eight seconds.

-scheduled for deletion-

Not good enough, not even good enough to let live. He was useless to the government, and therefore deemed useless as an entity, entirely undesirable.

Would they shoot him? No, too likely his power would turn the bullets into flowers, or the gun into a cat, or the gunner into a snowman.

Perhaps lethal injection? Would he turn the syringe into a bird? Would the poison inside become milk? The technician suddenly unable to stop laughing? Unable to stop spinning?

Incineration then; unless the flames turned into happily dancing bears, or perhaps it would rain inside, or he’d grow skin like diamonds.

Or.

Or he could just walk out of here now, through the stone archway that took up most of what had used to be the one-way-mirrored wall. He could walk through the arch that opened up to what appeared to be a communal bath house styled after ancient roman bath houses.

And maybe, as he walked through, the side in the government facility would simply dissolve once again onto the mirrored wall it was supposed to be.

And maybe, just maybe.

He was free.

Except, this seemed to be the female side of the bathhouse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: this is a small part of the "crayon's verse" written by myself . in case you can't quite grasp it, Taemin's power is a "chaos" type power, he has no control over what he "spawns" or "transforms" things into, but his power is usualy intuitive to what he needs. Taemin also has "SUPER" memory. Enjoy :D


	3. Lee Jinki has DID

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee Jinki has Multiple personality disorder(or Dissociative identity disorder if you want to label it in a politically correct way)

The thing about Jinki is that he’s not always Jinki.

It’s not that he doesn’t look like Jinki, because that doesn’t change.

If you were to look at him, it would appear like Jinki had always been him, and he had always been Jinki, only he hadn’t and he wasn’t and he wouldn’t always be.

You see, sometimes Jinki was a third world war veteran, or a deep sea adventurer, or the paper boy from down the street, only he wasn’t, except he was, or at least he thought he was.

Sometimes Jinki knows who he is, but he might not know that he is him.  
  
If you were to ask him "Who is Jinki?" he will tell you “he’s the leader of SHINee, that boyband,” that is if he even knows who SHINee is at the moment, because it’s very unlikely that a ragged seafarer from the sixteenth century should know about a twenty-first century boyband.

Sometimes when you ask him who Jinki is, he will reply “I am,” and sometimes he’ll giggle and blush and bat his lashes and say “Onew oppar!” and squeal, and sometimes he’ll scoff and grumble under his breath and tell you “all those youngsters look the same to me.”

Because, you see, Jinki isn’t always Jinki, even though he is, and sometimes Jinki is Onew, and sometimes he’s a six year old French prince.


	4. Choi Minho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choi Minho excelled at everything he ever tried, and even at some things he never bothered to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter only Minho/OMC pairing.

Minho’s always been exceptionally good at just about anything he tried to do, and more than half the things he didn’t even bother trying for.

First grade had been less than challenging, and he’d been sent for placement tests.

He enrolled in middle school when he was seven years old.  
  


One would think it would have been hard to make friends, being so much younger than his classmates; but along with his natural ability for…everything, came natural charisma.

People were drawn to him like moths to a flame.  
  
  


 

Minho excelled in sports above anything, even his academic score, which was nothing to scoff at.

He sometime felt a little sick, watching other kids study so hard just to place mediocrely, when he could sleep through class and pass in the top five percent for the country.

When Minho began his first year of highschool, he had a full ride scholarship to the most prestigious school in the country, and the pick of seven different sports teams.

Minho’s soccer team won the national championship four years in a row.  He participated in the junior world games at the age of 14, and brought home three silver medals and a gold.

  
  


Minho was a late bloomer.

His father said he was just too distracted by school and sports to really pay attention to things like puberty and girls.

His brother said he was gay.

One of them was right.

  
  


In the summer of Minho’s fifteenth year, in-between Higschool graduation and getting ready for university life, his world changed forever.

Where once Minho had been able to run a mile in four minutes, he suddenly could do it in four seconds. Three if he really tried.

Once he had been complimented on his firm handshake, now doorknobs crumbled under his touch.

  
  
  


He ran.

He ran as far as he could, but it only took him a day to meet the ocean, and so he swam across that.

He was found by a Chinese fisherman the following day, perfectly healthy, soaked to the bone and asking for directions in heavily accented Cantonese.

It was there, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean that he met his first love.

The fisherman’s son; his eyes like obsidian and a smile like the sun glinting off the oceans waves; tongue slick like an oyster and skin tanned to a dark gold. 

  
  
  


It didn’t take long for the world to notice the world junior game’s youngest gold medalist was missing. And it took even less time for them to find him.

They found him with rolling cameras and prepped microphones, they found him on the dock with a broken boy in is arms and his soul pouring down his cheeks in crystalline drops, like sea water spray.

They found him with the proof of his power, his ultimate weakness; they found him with his heart dying in his arms.

The golden-tanned boy literally crushed by the one who’d only wanted to hold him in his arms.

 

  
  
  


The world exploded for Minho.  Press and cameras, lights and death threats, murder charges and a self-hatred so deep even the dead sea* could not boast such a well.

 

  
  
  


Minho wasn’t aware when it happened, too locked up in his own self anguish, but something, someone rescued him.

_He_  walked into the courtroom like he owned the world-and perhaps he did- he dropped a sheaf of papers on the judgs's desk, checked his watch, and at promptly a-quarter-past two on Monday April second, both he and Minho vanished from the courtroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dead sea, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_sea


	5. Jonghyun also deserves a proper introduction, but this will have to suffice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exactly what the title says

Jonghyun has always been …special, in some ways more than others and in many senses of the word.

Jonghyun is very confidant, and self-assured, and very, very certain that his super power is the coolest thing since wi-fi.

 

No, seriously ask him, he’ll even do a demonstration, but I wouldn’t if I were you, the demonstration is at least fifteen minutes long, that’s if he doesn’t do any transformations, which he almost always does.

 

Jonghyun likes to boast of the fact that his biceps are fourteen inches in diameter, that he can hit notes higher than your average piano and that he can comfortably stick marbles up his nostrils (another demonstration he never backs down from).

 

He does not, however, boast about his 173 centimetre height, the fact that he’s fluent in Klingon (although he will babble it in his sleep and at the few, very secretive trekkie conventions he has managed to wiggle his way in to, be it as a prop, an actor, or a very inconspicuous tree) or that his IQ is a shocking 104.

Perhaps not so shocking once you meet him… still… shocking.

 

Anyone who knows these things about Jonghyun takes every chance to tease him about one or the other and then duck and run.

 

See, Jonghyun’s super power is about as predictable as Taemin’s only…maybe worse, because Jonghyun actually has control over it, but one never knows what may have distracted him, or what he may have been thinking of.

 

When one makes a shape-shifter angry, usually one has to deal with the typical saber-toothed cat, or a dinosaur, all run-of-the-mill really…. But when you make Jonghyun angry, you’re suddenly dealing with a one –eyed, three horned, purple skinned, legendary people eater, or a volcano (that’s a tricky one), or your mom, and sometimes he turns into a squirrel and he just keeps biting.

 

Jonghyun, unlike Taemin and like the majority of the human race, does not remember being born; but unlike the majority of the human race and still unlike Taemin, he does not remember anything before the age of sixteen. He doesn’t mind so much, he knows WHY he doesn’t remember and he’s happy leaving things the way they are.

 

 

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an: i know these chapters are short, but think of them more as short glimpses into the lives of these characters, once i get to know them better the longer chapters will come.


	6. Lee Jinki 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more on Lee Jinki

No one really knows how old Jinki is, not really. He looks to be about twenty, maybe twenty five. Sometimes he acts his age, sometimes he has the wisdom beyond his age and sometimes he can’t remember his ABC’s.

 

Only Jinki has any clue as to how old he actually is, and if you were to catch Jinki while he was Jinki (because, sometimes he’s not) he’d probably say something like, “how old do you think I am?” He likes to watch “noonas” blush, and dongsaengs stutter, he finds it adorable when they try to select an appropriate age, and he’s been told he looks in his young twenties for the past fifty years, so he guesses he really hasn’t aged much at all.

 

If you catch Jinki when he’s not Jinki, like say when he’s Svenir the Viking, he’s more likely to scream at you and threaten to rape and pillage your village in his mother tongue- which isn’t Korean when he’s Svenir; Svenir speaks Viking.

 

If you ask Jinki when he’s Brigadier general Thompson of the seventy-fifth aerospace non-continental airforce, he’ll probably huff in your face and tell you war stories from the early forty-first century, which hasn’t happened yet, at least not for you and I, but it has for brigadier general Thompson, he’s just visiting he’ll say, and then he’ll wink and tell you he’s “middling fifty, but still young  enough for some fun in the sack if ye catch mah drift”, in a very non-continental English accent to boot.

 

In reality Jinki only has a small clue as to how old he is, because Jinki only remember when he is him, and honestly he’s spent almost half his life not being him, so he can really only tell you that he’s been aware of his existence since people built houses out of dirt, which really gives us no timeline, because my aunt lives in a dirt house, she built it herself, she says it keeps her cool, I think she’s a hippie; but enough about me or my aunt, back to Jinki.

 

Apart from his personality disorder, Jinki has a very special super power. His presence can boost or dampen the powers of nearby supers, so while he himself, apart from being seemingly immortal, really has no super strength, his purpose in SME is more to augment great teams or keep them from getting too crazy-hungry-power-trippy.

 

Jinki really needn’t put any effort into augmenting a power, he just simply does it, but unless he’s himself he can’t remember how to dampen a power so for all his great usefulness he sometimes just causes more trouble than not.

 

When the super villain you’re fighting has triple the strength (just like you suddenly do) and there is a Polynesian flight attendant screaming about her hair (while looking like Jinki) and throwing every object within reach at the both of you, winning can be quite the challenge.

 

Or when Jinki is Washington’s horse (and he will tell you so while burring as well as a human can) and he prances about, whinnying bloody murder at the reptilian super villain whose venom can _kill_  a horse, and shouting for “Washington” (you) to “load the bloody musket already”, while you try and salvage the situation, it can be, frankly, quite tiresome really.

 

That’s why Lee Soo Man put Kim Kibum in charge of Jinki’s group.

 

No one beats a ninja…well except another ninja…. Or unless your name is Jonghyun and you turn into a rock to avoid defeat…then no one wins.


End file.
